it. But I suspect they wouldn’t enter this inlet—they wouldn’t dare trespass on the dragons’ land.”
“What remarkable discretion,” Rienne said. Gaven scowled at her, but she smiled and put a hand on his arm.
“You know I’m joking,” she said. “We’re in this together.”
He put an arm around her shoulder and gazed ahead at the sentinel pillars. On the western side of the inlet, the stone was clearly part of the mountain range that shadowed Totem Beach. At that point, the sea pressed in close to the mountains, squeezing out the beach almost completely. The mountains, for their part, grew shorter as if giving way to the sea’s advance into the inlet, but offered one last proclamation of their strength with this outcropping. On the eastern side, though, the stone towered over a surrounding blanket of forest. The mountain chain continued on the other side of the inlet, but much farther inland.
As they sailed closer to the pillars, the land beyond took shape. The inlet proved to be a wide channel cut deep into the mainland. On either side, the mountains sloped up to form a daunting barrier, but ahead the land rose more gently—Gaven was confident that they had found a way in to the land of dragons.
With the inlet beckoning, Gaven found it hard to stand still. He paced the deck through the afternoon, his eyes fixed on the gap in the mountains. It was a threshold few had ever crossed before him, an entrance into an almost unknown land. Even more, he felt something beyond the inlet calling to him, enticing him with a deeper understanding of the Prophecy. He kept the sails full of wind, but the
Sea Tiger
couldn’t sail fast enough to satisfy him. He tried to persuade Jordhan to keep sailing through the night—the entrance was so close!—but the captain refused. He spent another restless night sleeping in fits, then getting up to pace the deck some more.
Late the next morning, the pillars rose up on either side of the
Sea Tiger
. They were miles apart, but they still seemed threatening as they loomed above the ship. Gaven watched them drift slowly past—then started in amazement.
The stone of the pillars was striated in varying shades of gray, brown, and red. The sides facing the inlet had strangely smooth walls—but they were carved with the enormous faces of dragons. They were clustered near the tops of the pillars, far above the reach of any human hands. Dozens of them, and no two the same. Long horns and short ones curled and coiled, or jutted straight back or to the sides. Scaly ridges jutted at every angle from cheeks, jaws,chins, and ears. Each one had its own attitude, its own personality. Gaven pointed them out to Jordhan and Rienne.
“Just like the ones on the beach,” Jordhan said.
Rienne shook her head. “But these aren’t totems for the Serens.”
“It makes me think,” Gaven said. “Perhaps these and the ones on the beach were made for the same purpose.”
“To warn intruders away,” Rienne said.
“Exactly. They say quite clearly that this land belongs to the dragons.”
As if in response to Gaven’s words, a dark shape rose up from the top of the eastern pillar. It was long and serpentine, and its wings were like fans extending along its sides, tapering down to the end of its tail. It snaked through the sky high above them, weaving great circles in the air.
Gaven clenched the bulwark. “It’s just taking our measure.”
“I hope you’re right,” Jordhan muttered.
“I hope I’m wrong. I’m here to learn from the dragons. I’d rather talk to one now, or fight it if I have to, than fight three dragons later when they decide to attack us.”
Jordhan shrugged. “All I know is I’d rather live a little longer, even if it’s only a few hours. I mean to squeeze every last drop out of life before I’m dragon food.”
“No one on this ship will be dragon food,” Gaven said, louder than he meant to. “Just keep sailing, Jordhan.”
The captain’s face